“See, Don, I have this question, and I hope you’ll be honest with me.”He pulled at the end of his eyebrow. “I think you know you can count on my honesty.”“Can I?” I asked with an edge. “All right, then tell me: How long have you been fucking me?”That caused him to stop tugging his brow. “I don’t know what you’re saying—”“Because if I was going to fuck you,” I interrupted, “I’d get a bottle of gin, some Frank Sinatra music…and a crash cart for the heart attack you’d have. But you, Don, you’ve been fucking me for years now, and I haven’t gotten any liquor, music, flowers,candy, or anything!”

“Ask me for money, Peter.” I grabbed his wrists and pushed him against the wall.He looked everywhere but at me, no attempt to free himself. He was definitely stronger than I, but right that second I didn’t care if he was being patronizing. If it forced him to answer me, then patronizing I’d take.“No,” he murmured.“Ask me for money, goddamn you.” I punctuated it with a slam of his wrists, hard enough to jar, but not painful—I hoped. The next time my shirt wouldn’t be there to cushion it. I wasthat pissed.“I have!” He spat back, easily extricating his hands and pushing me away. I grabbed his arm, turning him around.“For Cai. For sex. Not for you. You’d rather go fuck a bunch of strangers—”“I don’t fuck anyone but Darryl anymore,” he denied. “It’s just a show for a bunch of voyeurs. No one gets hurt.”“I get hurt!”“I don’t have any other way, Austin.”“You have me. Ask me,” I said, hating the pleading sound in my voice.“No.”“Jesus Christ, why the fuck not?”“Because I don’t want you to be a fucking trick!” The shout was so loud I felt the vibrations along my spine.”

“What? I demand to know. "What is it now?""You're not going to go." he says."Watch me.""I've been having a vision of this place, too." This stops me from my wild, cowardly (how can he think I'm brave?) retreat back to the road ..."You're having a new vision, too?" I ask. "It's right here." He walks toward me, his strides long and purposeful across the grass. "Right now. I've been seeing it for weeks, and it's happening right now."He stops in front of me. "This is the part where I kiss you," he says.”

“I love you, Gideon.”“God.” He looked at me with something that resembled disgust. Whether it was directed at me or himself, I didn’t know. “How can you say that?”“Because it’s the truth.”“You just see this”—he gestured at himself with a wave of his hand. “You’re not seeing the fucked-up, broken mess inside.”I inhaled sharply. “You can say that to me? When you know I’m fucked up and broken, too?”

“Sky, if you’re asking me to stop, I will. But I’m hoping you’re not, because I really don’t want to stop, so please.” He pulls back and looks down into my eyes, still barely moving his body against mine. His eyes are full of ache and worry and he’s breathless when he speaks. “We won’t go any further than this, I promise. But please don’t ask me to stop where we already are. I need to watch you and I need to hear you because the fact that I know you’re actually feeling this right now is so fucking amazing. You feel incredible and this feels incredible and please. Just… please.”

“See, you don’t get it. You never fucking got it. You’ve avoided me since Thanksgiving break.Dropped the Goddamn class and I know that was because of me, and every time I tried to talk to you, you fucking ran from me.”“You didn’t want to talk to me the day I thanked you for helping me out,” I pointed out.“Gee, I don’t know why? Maybe because you made it painfully clear you didn’t want anything to do with me. And then you just show up tonight?Out of the fucking blue and get drunk? You don’t get it.”